


High Hopes High Sacrifice

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [20]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), High Hopes Low Rolls (Web Series)
Genre: (pretty sure BubbleDramatically would kill me otherwise), (there's going to be a sequel don't worry), Blood, Blood and Gore, F/M, Hypothermia, I would apologize, LOTS of violence, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Violence, but i don't think y'all will forgive me for this, cara's name is messed up but at this point i'm too lazy to change it, in the slightest, no beta we die like wizards, this is a BIG SAD guys, tws for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24629545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: “Paddy, what are you doing? No. No, you can’t—you can’t do this!”“I’m sorry. I’ll buy you some time, just go.”This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go.
Relationships: All Are Background or Implied, Malark Dundragon/Paddock "Paddy" Whitlaw, Rook Lunera/Gwing Veloce
Series: High Hopes Low (Blank) [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692196
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	High Hopes High Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BubbleDramatically](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubbleDramatically/gifts).



> TWs in tags. Fair warning: you may need tissues, this one’s really freaking sad.  
> I’d apologize in advance, but I’m pretty sure you’re not going to forgive me for a while.

This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go.

Rain spattered on the glass windowpanes of the inn, streams dripping in an elaborate dance down the fragile surface. The wind raged and screamed, whipping the trees into a frenzied chorus of tear-stained leaves and wailing boughs. Dark storm clouds pooled in charcoal-toned waves across the once-blue expanse of sky. Every so often, lightning snapped and cracked the sky in two, thunder roaring moments later.

A man knelt in the mud outside.

His face, obscured from the view of his observers, was tilted towards the sky. As parents ushered their children away from the windows and to bed, he remained. He’d been there for some time, facing the terrible storm dead-on with the apathetic “courage” of someone with nothing left to lose. Tears and rain flowed indiscriminately down his face, dripping off his hair and chin and running through the mud and blood and sweat caked to his face. It wasn’t in the harsh, stinging way—rather the tender brush of a parent (or a lover) wiping away the debris with gentle touches.

Leaning against the doorframe, a half-elf ranger watched him quietly. Only one of them could have gotten through to their companion when he was like this. But that person was gone and there was nothing they could do about it.

“How is he?” Turning, Gwing Veloce met the exhausted gaze of Rook Lunera. The wizard, much like the others, was bandaged and bruised and red-eyed from crying.

Glancing outside, she sighed and crossed her arms. “He still hasn’t moved. How are the others dealing?”

“Mina took Terra up to the room. It was a pretty bad shock. Ava, Brio, and Zada went, too.” Pausing as Zenya appeared, Nala at her side, he offered some bacon to the pair. While the panther refused, Zenya took it eagerly in her little talons. As the pseudodragon grawed on the strips of meat, he sighed and continued, “Ryce and Nagar are standing guard. Hashaan is…well…”

“I’ll try and get her to rest. Mind watching him for a minute? Might as well have Ryce try and get him to come inside and get some rest.” Nodding, Rook took her place. Gwing ducked into the room where they…where Hashaan was after sending Ryce to take Rook’s place.

The black dragonborn was still cradling their…other friend to his chest. Without all the blood, Gwing could almost convince herself that he was asleep or sick, but she knew better. If he were either of those, it’d be obvious.

But he was gone, and possibly for good.

It was clear in the way they’d found him, five hours after they left him. It was clear by the blood and the slashes. It was clear by how pale and cool his skin was. The way his eyes weren’t quite closed, staring glassily at the growing storm out the window. It’d been sprinkling then. He’d been holding his mask—the young man outside had it now, cracked again and possibly beyond repair. It’d fallen from his hand when he…

Hashaan looked up and met Gwing’s gaze, pain in her eyes. “Zis never should have happened. Ve should have stayed.” Clutching him closer, she looked away and added, “ _I_ should have stayed.”

Walking over, Gwing touched her friend’s shoulder. There wasn’t really a use, though. She couldn’t say anything. This was something they could fix. Not this time.

Paddy Whitlaw was dead.

+++

_Five Hours Earlier…_

Taking a deep breath, Paddy looked at the soldiers in front of him. There were too many—far too many. That was fine, he wasn’t planning on winning.

He just needed to buy the others some time.

A panther that reminded him painfully of Nala lunged at him, slashing and snarling with unsheathed claws and bared teeth. Stumbling back, he jabbed with his sword and winced when it sunk into the animal’s ribs. A moment later, he didn’t feel so sympathetic. The panther snarled and twisted, and he felt the bones in his wrist and forearm strain and snap under its weight. Crying out, he sank to his knees for a moment. Desperate, he tried casting a spell. He wasn’t sure what. Just something.

A steel blade smashed into his side (thankfully it was the flat of it), and he was thrown to the ground. “Well, look what we have here, boys. Paddock Whitlaw.” A massive, calloused hand wrapped around the back of his already-bruised neck and lifted him. Weakly, Paddy shoved at the man’s arm. A bellowing, barking laugh was his only response. “Don’t worry, we’ll let you go. After all, you need to go and see your dear old parents, don’t you?” Pulling him close so that Paddy could almost taste the blood-filled wine on his breath, the man added, “We’re just going to have some _fun_ first.”

Something sharp drove itself into Paddy’s stomach and he let out a choked cry of pain.

+++

_“I’m scared, Dad!”_

_Clinging to the tree, Paddy glanced down at his dad. Seamus Whitlaw calmly smiled up at him in the sunny way that meant everything would be okay. “It’s okay, Paddy. I’ll catch you, I promise.” Arms extended, he waited patiently for his youngest._

_The branch shook in the wind, and Paddy whimpered. Closing his eyes, he clung to the trunk as best as a ten-year-old with very little upper body strength could. “I don’t want to fall!”_

_Laughing warmly, Seamus replied, “You’re not going to fall, Paddy. Do you trust me?” Paddy risked a glance at his dad and Seamus kept smiling at hm. “You just need to jump to me. I’ll catch you.”_

_Taking a breath, Paddy turned and jumped._

+++

“We have to go back for him! Please!” Malark thrashed in Nagar’s arms, desperate. If he could get out—if he could run to— “Please!”

“Malark, we can’t. We have to get the orb to the mayor.” Rook said apologetically. “We’ll come back later, okay?”

“No—he can’t—we can’t leave him!” When he moved, the violent gashes on his ribs screamed out in pain. “Nagar, please!”

The white dragonborn refused to meet his gaze,

They’d gone into town thinking it would be an easy mission. Get prepped, get inside the bandits’ fortress and find the Eye of Azura, and get out. The town would have water again, they would have their reward money, and everyone but the bandits would be happy.

Except they’d gotten caught and things had gone so far south Antarctica was north (whatever Antarctica was).

If Paddy hadn’t been hurt, he would’ve been fine. But his nose and eye socket were broken and Zada didn’t have the strength to do any healing spells and he’d refuse them anyways and he’d already been half-strangled. It should have been Malark on the other side of that door. _He_ should have been fighting.

Paddy was going to die, alone, and there was nothing Malark could do.

+++

His head cracked against the stone bricks behind him so hard his vision went black.

Stumbling to his feet, Paddy summoned two orbs of sparkling electricity. Unlike its usual unpredictable-but-steady form, each one wavered and crackled. “Stay…stay back…” He panted, blinking rapidly. The world swayed, and his wounds screamed viciously with every heartbeat. His cloak had been discarded, and he was pretty sure he’d broken his arm in two more places. His chest was warm, sticky, and wet from what he had an awful feeling was his own blood. It was dripping into his eyes, from his nose and ears and split lip. He’d taken down some of the soldier-bandits (whatever they were, he couldn’t remember). “Don’t make me…do something…we’ll all…all regret…”

One of the men stalked forwards—no wait, there were three of him. Them. Triplets? Twins? “If only your parents could see you now. They’d be so _proud_.”

Paddy threw the bolts, missing both times as the room spun on its own axis. “Don’t—don’t you _dare_ —talk about them—” Stumbling forwards, he swung weakly.

Something slammed into his throat. Clawed gloves dug into the sides of his neck and Paddy gasped. Hot breath washed over his ear and throat as he was pulled close to his attacked. “Come _on_ , Whitlaw. Show me a _real_ fight.”

He was shoved to the ground and a boot connected with his chest.

+++

_Ronan carried him into the house._

_Coughing and shivering, Paddy buried his face in his older brother’s chest and tried to shut the world out. He was soaked through to the bone and chilled to the marrow, having fallen into an icy lake earlier while having fun with his siblings. As Ronan set him on the couch and gave Clara and Connor orders, Paddy whimpered and grabbed for him. “No, hold still. We need to warm you up.” Ronan growled, then left._

_Shuddering, Paddy tried lifting his head. He was weaker than a newborn kitten, however, and the heavy blanket left on him only made him want to sleep. The churning of his stomach, however, did the opposite._

_Someone sat down where his head was and fingers began carding through his hair. Groaning, he cracked his eyes open to see Brianna, his mother, smiling down at him. “Hey, Paddy, you’re alright. I heard you got in a little trouble.”_

_Blinking slowly, he mumbled, “…fell in a lake…” and she smiled. Taking a towel, she started drying his hair while Ronan and Connor helped him into dry clothes and Clara made hot chocolate._

_He fell asleep with her still by his side, petting his hair._

+++

_Two Hours Earlier…_

They found him in the room where they’d left him, thrown against the wall like some broken toy.

He was on his side on the ground. His eyes were locked on the window across from him where the storm was just beginning. Lying mere breaths from his fingertips was his mask, shattered into pieces. There was blood pooled around his body and coating his skin, slashes and bruises marring his face.

Malark had dropped to his knees by the wood elf and pulled him into his arms, cradled him close while whispering apologies over and over again into the deafening silence.

Numb, Gwing stood off to the side while Terra let out a long wail and sank to her knees. Mina went with her, Brio and Ava at the young woman’s side immediately. Zada simply stood, staring, while Hashaan went to Malark’s side. Nagar turned and left, Ryce glared at the ground, while Rook moved closer to Gwing. Zenya chirruped in confusion and Nala paced over to Paddy.

_“Get away from him!”_ Malark snapped, shoving the panther back. She didn’t even bare her teeth at the response.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Paddy couldn’t be _dead._ It just wasn’t possible. He was—he was strong and he had magic. He could defend himself.

_Could he? He was wounded and alone,_ part of her pointed out. _One of you could have taken the Eye of Azura alone._ So why didn’t you?

Taking a breath, Gwing tried to ignore her burning eyes. She tried to ignore Terra’s sobs and Nagar’s bellows of rage as he destroyed the bandits’ furniture. She tried to ignore how _broken_ Malark looked, cradling Paddy’s bloodied form as Hashaan crouched nearby. She tried to ignore Rook pressing into her and all the implications. When Nagar returned, she cleared her throat, even though it didn’t really work.

“Let’s get him home.”

+++

_Five Hours Earlier (After the Fight) …_

Staggering to his feet, Paddy glanced around the room, chest heaving for every breath.

He was dying. That was okay. He was okay with it. Sometimes people died, and that was part of life and they just…had to keep going. After all, dying didn’t happen to the person itself. It happened to…everyone around them…everyone who survived…

When did it get so hard to think?

The world tilted to the side and he slumped against the wall, hearing something fall to the ground. Numbly, he realized it was his mask, cracked and shattered. Reaching over, he scooped it up as best he could, the edges of his vision already darkening. He couldn’t make out the details of the walls anymore, even when he tried. Coughing, he felt something drip from his mouth and shakily tried to wipe it away, but his hand wouldn’t move. His consciousness was fading, everything was dripping away with every beat of his heart and he felt oddly calm as he let himself slump to the ground.

Taking a ragged breath, he blinked a few times when he saw something in front of him. No, not something. Someone? But that wasn’t possible.

Clutching the mask harder, he tried to force his eyes open just a little more, but fingers carded gently through his hair. “Hey, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” A familiar voice whispered, and he coughed again. He couldn’t breathe. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re going to be fine.”

Black spots swirled in his blurred vision even as the two people in front of him came into sharp focus. A warm, sunny smile broke through the shadows and he took a weak breath. “Hey, Paddy, you’re okay. Everything’s going to be fine.” Something, some sort of word or noise escaped him, and his head was pulled into someone’s lap. Beyond them, everything continued to fade out, paling a little bit.

“You’re going to be alright, Paddy.” The person carding their fingers through his hair whispered, and he blinked a few times. “Just close your eyes. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Suddenly, the thought of Malark and the others jumped into his mind and his heart sped up, briefly. Not long enough, but long enough for him to think about what would happen when they found him. Wordless apologies sped through his mind at the speed of light, until finally he focused simply on Malark’s face and two words that said a thousand meanings.

_Have hope._

+++

The door slammed shut behind them, iron bars clanking.

Whipping around, Malark stared at Paddy with wide eyes. The wood elf took a step back, a pained smile on his face. “Paddy, what are you doing?” He asked, and they all could hear the soldiers sprinting towards them. After a second, he realized what Paddy’s plan was. “No. No, you can’t—you can’t do this!”

Paddy did something, and the walls creaked. Holding Malark’s gaze, he brokenly choked out, “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you some time, just go.”

The doors on the opposite side of Paddy’s room smashed open. “Paddy, wait!” Clawed hands wrapped around Malark’s shoulders, pulling him back as he struggled against them. “PADDY!”

“There he is!” Paddy turned to look at the soldiers and unsheathed his blade. When he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression had changed from scared to determined. The soldiers surged forwards, and the door between Paddy and the rest of High Hopes was already solidifying into a stone brick wall.

Paddy smiled, gave them a two-fingered salute, and said, “Have hope.”

The soldiers closed in. The wall sealed up. Hashaan pulled Malark to her chest as they ran. That didn’t matter.

Paddy was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, there is going to be a part two of this.  
> However…I don’t know when it’s going to come out. Sorry, but I have sixteen or seventeen manuscripts to write over this summer and a limited time to do them. As a result, I have to take some time off of my fanfiction writing (don’t worry, I’ll come back. I just have some work to do first). Also, I need to figure out how to contact a literary agent, or else the publisher I’m thinking of going to with these books isn’t going to take me seriously.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading, and I promise I’ll write the sequel to this as soon as I’ve finished one of the first books. Considering I once wrote 225 pages over 5 days and one of the books is already fairly close to being finished and I know where I’m going…give it about a week and I’ll have something up for you.  
> Now, into the fray once more!


End file.
